Razing Memories

They tore it down today. I am so incredibly bummed it’s just silly. The air condition-less (at that time) dorm I mentioned in a previous post is no more. That old limestone monument to college days gone by is now just a pile of rubble. According to the experts it was decrepit & had to go – make room for the new style of housing the spoiled children need these days. I feel old. Well, I suppose to them I am old. I would’ve thought I was old if I saw me when I was in college.

Now it’s all about suites – adjoining rooms and a shared bathroom for too few students. How the heck are they supposed to get any character building done like that? We crammed clothes, shoes, pictures, makeup, hair products, cassette tapes (yes, cassette tapes), boom box, micro fan, illegal hot pot, overpriced school books, stuffed animals, ruffled bedspread, and high school memorabilia all into a room the size of your parents' bathroom. Plus - two twin beds, two creaky wooden desks, two creaky wooden chairs and a wall phone (no cell phones, no free long distance). I think there was a dresser too, but I’m not sure. There must’ve been because I don’t know where else we’d have kept our underwear. Funny how I can’t remember where I stored underwear in college. Anyway - You learned to live in cramped quarters and compromise without driving each other nuts. An excellent life lesson.

For two years my college buddies & I lived on the lowest level, otherwise known as “The Ghetto” and we were proud of it. Our doors were usually open & we’d wander in & out of rooms – staying to do homework, yak about boys/partying, or watch soap operas. It was usually necessary to leave your door open if you left to visit a Ghetto neighbor. This was so you could smell if the water boiled away in your illegal hot pot and the egg you were making started burning (or blew up).

You can end on that odoriferous note or read this one last mushy memory. Many evenings I ran up the stairs across from our room to the locked side door where my boyfriend (now husband) was banging on the door. Off we’d go in his illegally parked blue Grand Prix. The steps are gone. The heavy door is gone. So sad.

Photo by owner of illegally parked Grand Prix
(my dorm was behind him)

All we are is dust (or tomatoes) in the wind

Ages and eons ago, my best friend & I blew into this Kansas college town.  We were homesick Colorado chicks suffocating in a tiny dorm room with no air conditioning, 110-degree days and the last puny fan left in town.  And then there was the WIND.  Every. Single. Blasted. Day!  Unbelievably, you kind of get used to it.  I know this because about a week after we arrived, we were walking to class and something seemed odd.  We couldn't put a finger on it - what was so different that day?  It took us a good 5 minutes to realize the wind had stopped.

Wind has cost us shingles, a van window, a van door, a few random pieces of mail, a tree, and large sections of a heavy wood fence that wound up in the neighbor’s yard.  They called it straight-line winds – like a tornado, only it doesn’t go round and round.

All this wind makes gardening a challenge.  I, of course, garden.  I had what I would call average-ish gardens until we moved across town and gained a fabulous sunny garden with perfect soil.  Suddenly my garden was above average-ish.  I had tomatoes that grew full & tall - more surface for the wind to push around.  It was common for the wind to have blown over several of my plants, wire cages and all, by summer’s end.  Last year my husband had a brilliant idea - electrical conduit for tomato stakes.  So, I walked into the hardware store/lumber yard place and asked for electrical conduit.  As I was directed to the 10’ metal pipes, the sales guy asked if I needed whatever it is you usually need when you buy conduit. (He was more specific.)  I said, “No, I’m using them to stake tomato plants.”  Looking perplexed, he exclaimed, “Wow, you must grow killer tomatoes!”  I explained about the wind issue and this was my solution.  He seemed amused.  It wasn’t until I was hauling the conduit into the garage that I realized I hadn’t mentioned to him that I was cutting them in half.  Oops.

Oh, and they’ve worked great.  Excluding a tornado, I think I’ve conquered the wind on this one.

Recipe or horror movie?

In the summer my work hours start at 7 am. My husband is a night owl & my kids are typical teenagers. Summer means going to bed before my entire family, including the dog, and then getting up well before the entire family, including the dog. My intentions to maintain a decent schedule are a mere daydream by mid summer. The family entices me with movies or games or conversation. Rapscallions!

This reluctance to hit the hay means some mornings at my desk can become a slightly sleep-deprived haze. My task yesterday was to make a list of various policies needing additional proofing. So, I jotted my list and set it aside. Done for the day and home I went. At work this morning - I turn on the computer, check e-mails, chat with the ladies a bit and then it's time to go over the list. I spread my paperwork in front of me and scan down the list of policies, e.g. Severe Weather Policy, Travel Policy. About 2/3 through the list I read this: "Missing Student Casserole." I stare at it for a moment wondering if I just can't read my own handwriting, but there's no mistaking it reads "Casserole" instead of "Policy."

Seriously, could you read that and not burst into laughter? Thankfully, my coworkers shared in the joke. However, I think they may have tired of my occasional chuckling as I continued working on the list throughout the morning. At least it kept me awake!

Chiggers, Coyotes & Peas - Oh My! (or harvest 2010)

Harvest is the pinnacle of the farmer's year.  We recently finished harvest so I'll share a bit of it.  You should know that we live in town and our family farm is about 10 miles out with no house there anymore - just various buildings and machinery.

We have gained a farm cat who will need a new home sometime before winter. (husband is allergic) She's friendly, adorable and now has some meat between her skin & bones. Any takers?

A calm twilight after 2 days of wind & heat brings out the wildlife. A fat badger scurried away when I pulled into the farm that evening. Then, as I was finishing up cat visitation, some coyotes started howling & yipping unnervingly close (adrenaline rush/goose bumps.) I saw some hazy figures in the distance & quickly plopped the cat up in her tree and drove off. That's when I realized the figures were four deer observing me.

My 17 yr old daughter & I still both fit in the combine with Alan. Only now I can't see much in front of me & when we get out it takes awhile to walk normal again.

We can still all four fit in the big tractor, but it's humorous, especially when Becca knocks it out of gear with her overly expressive elbow.

Overheard while riding in the combine with Alan: 
My son asks via the CB (needing to know how soon his dad wants to dump on the grain cart) "How much wheat do you have out there?" 
dad - "A whole lot." 
son - "That is NOT helpful." 
dad - "I won't know until we finish this field." 
son - "Okay, can you now answer my question the way it was originally intended?"

Chiggers like me better than my son. A night without bug spray is painful, especially behind my knees. I guess I'm just sweeter.

Becca - "Why do they say farmwife? You married a farmer, not a farm."
Me - "It's kinda' like housewife."
Becca - "Except you didn't marry a houser."

Mother/son entertainment during a field supper - try to land Alec's hat on each other's heads until Alan snatches it & tosses it into the ditch.

Becca - "They make pink John Deere shirts. Why can't they make a pink John Deere?"
(yes, she was joking)

I am driven by one ultimate goal each night: Keep all the hot food hot until the last man eats!

Me to my Pop-in-law: "Want some peas?"
Al - "Oh my, that was too much last night. I still have that great big cup in the fridge"
Me (louder) - "I said PEAS, NOT TEA."

Next day to my Pop-in-law (handing him lunch): "There's a cookie in there too"
Al - "What???" & looks at me like I'm nuts
Me - "A COOKIE"
Al laughing - "Oh, I thought you said a turkey."
(I love him - hearing challenged & all.)

Al - "Those are some real good pork chops!"
     No joke here, I just love to impress him : ] 

The men I cook for: one prefers handheld food, one wants all hot home cooking (my hubby-he wins), one loves fruit and hates sweets and another hates fruit and loves sweets. It's a challenge I relish - at least for one week out of the year.

Farmers generally have names for each field - often after whatever family used to own it or you still rent from, or by the closest road or town. Two of ours are super clever - the furthest east one is "Over East" and the newest one, which is the now the furthest west is - yup - "Over West"

I have a good guess how many miles to each field, but directions tend to sound more like this: drive north, turn left at the black top, turn right at the feedlot, turn left at the road that goes by the water tower. Once you go past the really big tree that hangs over the road in a low spot - you're almost there.

And I'll end with my version of the farmer wave. -Innn- (One finger lifted casually off the steering wheel - okay it's a skinny, short finger, but you get the idea)